The City Beneath the Snow
by Eilwen
Summary: Anna does not remember much of her childhood, but she remembers sledding in the park, ice skating, her sister's snow cones and a blond boy. AU in New York City. Kristanna.
1. A Bar at the Folies-Bergère

Author's intro: This fic was inspired by Anysia's fic 'Serendipity' (found in her Frozen Shards collection), especially since I blabbed on Tumblr that I wanted to continue it and she gave me the OK. I know she's in the process of creating a large AU but I asked her anyway if I could continue with my own, and she gave her blessing. I wrote a skeleton for eleven or so chapters, to ensure that any similarities between out stories will be coincidental, though Anna and Kristoff's introduction might be the same-ish. I hope you to enjoy this and when Anysia writes hers, you enjoy hers too.

subway map for reference (with spaces removed): mta . info / maps / images / subway _ 2400 x 2863 . jpg

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**_1. A Bar at the Folies-Bergère _****– Édouard Manet, 1882**

Anna did not remember much of her childhood. She had glimpses of small city parks where playing on the slides and the swings felt as if she were playing in cages. She used to beg her sister to go to the bigger park in the wintertime. There, the small hills created enough of a slope to slide their toboggan. Her sister was old enough to be trusted to walk through the city on her own without adult accompaniment, and so Anna was deeply dependent on her.

What childhood memories remain were hazy. The feelings associated with them were vivid, though, especially the happy recollections of time spent with her sister. But as clear as the feelings were, the memories themselves came clouded, no matter how hard she tried to remember. She remembered only a few very well.

She recalled that on good days, she and her sister would visit the cute restaurant around the corner of their street and order tea and sandwiches. There, the waitresses wore frilled uniforms, so the girls would come dressed to suit in pretty skirts, their hair in neat braids with bows. Anna would drown her tea with milk and kill it with sugar but her sister would drink it without any additions. At the end of their meal, they would split a chocolate scone and the chef, who frequently saw them, might treat them to a free slice of cake if they were lucky.

She also recollected, strangely enough, a blond boy who was always at a street market. He must have been about her sister's age because they chatted easily about school things while Anna, fresh in elementary school, did not follow the conversations about the complexities of adjectives in English class amongst other things. She did not remember his name, but she remembered that he was always behind a stall on Sundays during the summer. The people he was with were always embarrassing him, pinching his cheeks and fussing about his clothing.

The street market was always packed with tourists and idle New Yorkers who were willing to spend a few coins. Mom-and-pop bakeries selling chocolate chip cheesecake muffins were Anna's favourite. The stall next to the blond boy's would sell just fruits, followed by vegetables, then the seemingly bare dairy stall. It was there where Anna and her sister would, when their sweet tooth got the better of them, purchase condensed milk.

Home was where they made snow cones, though Anna did not really remember them owning a snow cone machine... They would drizzle the newly bought condensed milk onto the mound of ice after pouring the red noxious syrup, something that street vendor once taught them. Others would have found it sickeningly sweet, but the girls thought it delightful. At some point the snow cone machine must have exploded because soon the entire kitchen was covered in ice. Anna had no logical explanation for this (for snow cone machines historically do not explode), so she assumed her memory is playing tricks on her, the way memories blur into one another to form a completely different story. She did remember the shocked look her parents had when they came home.

The harder Anna tried to remember about the time after that, the less she seemed to grasp at the truth. Everything came in sparks: Thanksgiving at the parade, ice skating at Rockefeller Center, snowmen at the park, and all her childhood joys that she shared with her sister faded away into a frosted blur.

Not too long after, her parents separated, splitting the two girls apart: Anna went with her mother to the other side of Central Park and her sister stayed with her father at their old home. Anna always tried calling, begging her sister to hang out, to go for a walk and maybe have tea again at the restaurant (swearing that she was now old enough to walk without supervision,) but the answer was always the same: no. No, she's too busy. No, the weather is too poor. No, Anna, no. Weekend visits to her old home were spent more with her father and less with her sister who was always off to piano lessons or was locked in her room with too much homework. Eventually, her sister had gone to study abroad leaving weekends to just father-daughter bonding. The sibling relationship changed dramatically. While her sister was abroad, Anna would wait all night on her Instant Messenger, until she fell asleep at the desk and her mother had to peel Anna away to tuck her into bed. Her sister rarely logged in, and if she did, her conversations were brief and one-worded. Eventually, Anna stopped trying.

Without anyone to accompany her, Anna never visited the street markets again. She never drank tea at the restaurant. She never went sledding when it snowed. Even as she grew older, attended school, made new friends and went on field trips, Anna never did the things she used to do as a child.

It was strange – living in New York City, with over a million people, and feeling so alone all the time. She had friends, but with her busy schedule, her part-time jobs and volunteer work to feed her mother's over-ambitious plans for Anna, the friends got closer to each other and not with her. While she hung out with them, whenever she did sneak out a few hours, there were inside jokes, plans for summer vacations in Rhode Island… and she was left behind. There were people she considered 'best friends' but it was difficult to maintain that comforting feeling when _their_ best friend was someone else.

Anna and her mother were rather well off, being able to have a maid, a view of Central Park from their apartment and a driver to take Anna wherever she wanted to go, so she never fully understood why her mother was so persistent about her studying. She assumed that her mother was simply being a good parent, refusing to spoil her they way some of her classmates were spoiled and so she never questioned.

Anna eventually got used to life like this. Her sister became a distant memory – a figure in her past, like notes in an old history book.

She attended the university close to home, ensuring she would be close to her mother and thus never had the chance to really socialise with classmates if she had lived in a dorm. She studied art history and grabbed an internship at a contemporary gallery in Chelsea, though she desperately wanted to work at the nearby 19th Century European Art gallery just a few refurbished warehouses down the street. She graduated to assistant and there she remained to this day, taking care of the gallery as if she were the director, as the director was a slightly incompetent man, but getting less pay than he.

Tuesday to Saturday, she would sit at the front desk, answering emails or visitor's questions and acting as a liaison between artists and collectors. The director on the other hand, took care of the pretty tasks – travelling and attending art fairs. Anna in her youth had visited other countries (though she was too young to remember specific details again) but ever since the separation, she hadn't left New York City. She loved the city. Anything she wanted, she had some access to: good Japanese food where the fish melts at your tongue, plays and concerts that always made a stop in the big city on their world tours, movies that only played in independent cinemas and of course art from all over the world housed in beautiful museums. New York City was the right place to treat a girl. Sometimes, however, on clear nights, she would look up at the sky from her bedroom window and gaze at a few lucky stars that managed to break through the light pollution and she would wonder how that same sky would look in a much more rural place...

A new exhibition had opened on a hot summer day. On the night of the opening ceremony, Anna had swum in wine and conversation. She was never a great drinker and her skin would flush to the same colour as her hair. When the opportunity arose, she grabbed it so firmly in that need to socialise that she drank too much and thus was too tipsy to make intelligent conversation. She had briefly spoken with a handsome redhead who smelled of expensive cologne and had a smile that seemed to always mirror hers when she looked at him. In short, he was _beautiful_. The conversation had been short. Just some compliments he gave and she blushed and gave them back before she was pulled aside to explain a piece to an elderly art lover.

As she sighed at the memory of his fantastic face, the director marched to the front desk with the New York Times firmly in his hands.

"Look at this! _Weselton Gallery's Munch Influence_! We're in the Times!" His large nose brushed the newspaper as he held up the Arts Section in excitement.

Anna looked across the desk at the tiny man. While sitting down, she was oddly at the same height as the director, though she was not very tall. "Is it a good review?"

"Who cares? Publicity is publicity. If the art is bad, people will still come to see what the fuss is about."

Anna took the paper and quickly skimmed. "Well at least they recognised the Edvard Munch inspiration..." A screaming mass of colours covered their usually white walls in this exhibition. The pieces were truly incredible, but the dark tones and the negativity were bringing her down and she felt like she wanted to cry. It seems too dark and too morbid to be considered pretty, yet it was strangely alluring. A visitor might find some inspiration in the darkness of the colours ("So desperate. So... dead, but alive!" said one visitor in the guestbook), but coming to the gallery nearly every day was already taking a toll on Anna, and the art had barely been up for a week.

The review was vague in its opinion.

The director was ecstatic nevertheless. "I knew it was a brilliant idea to bring that unknown to the spotlight. Ahh!" He was basking in the art. "Bring me another nameless and I'll throw some fancy words and I'll exploit their talents! Oh! Never mind that. You didn't hear anything." He danced his way back into his office, leaving the Times with Anna. "This calls for a celebration!"

Anna was accustomed to the director's strange behaviours. He was not a very generous gentleman, thinking of art as only objects of monetary value and not of beauty, but he was her boss. The review somewhat withered into a recommendation to see the exhibition, which she guessed was a good sign. Admittedly, there were some reviews in the Times she could not exactly interpret. As she folded the paper together, the business section slipped out.

_Rike's Daughter Now CEO of Arendelle Co._

Anna carefully picked it up and unfolded it. Posted right on the front page was a heavily cloaked white haired woman. The picture resembled a queen's portrait: regal, tall and elegant, completely unlike the girl with her high-heeled shoes off and a half-eaten unplated apple close to her keyboard, holding the newspaper. The woman's clothes were so dark, her pale head seemed to float above it, almost ghostlike and painterly. Her hair was braided around her head like a halo. Anna's sister, Elsa Rike, smiled softly through ink and paper.

Anna quickly snapped out of her reverie and dove into her purse. She was used to letters, both small and bulky, from Arendelle Co. which spoke endlessly about legal issues, will stipulations and other important matters after her father died the year before. Some of them had gotten so overwhelming, that she would hold the letter in her purse, untouched for days.

Her parents' deaths had come so suddenly, Anna could still feel the sting in her heart whenever she thought of them. While Elsa had been abroad, her mother and father were beginning to reconnect, something Anna was fully supporting, especially in hopes to bring back Elsa, but when a car accident had claimed their lives, Anna felt her world break apart. The funeral was stretched in a sea of black, especially as all of her father's friends, co-workers and employees surrounded the graves. Anna had glimpsed a sign of white hair, but when she turned again, it was as if she had been letting her imagination run.

It had been a while since she received an Arendelle Co. letter, so when at yesterday afternoon, Anna found another letter in her mail, she almost checked to see the stamp date to ensure she did not somehow forget it in the box for several months. She had again forgotten about it until this morning.

Perhaps this one is less about legal matters...? The letter was in a standard envelope, though the quality of the paper was definitely better than usual. Her name was handwritten at the front, something she did not notice until that moment, but the return address at the side was generic: Arendelle's logo, the crocus, with serif font.

She carefully peeled the seal open.

_INVITATION TO  
__ELSA RIKE'S INAUGURATION AS CEO OF ARENDELLE CO._

_You are cordially invited to..._

The rest of the invitation gave minor details of place and time with a _Please dress formally _stuck at the bottom.

Any normal person would feel some anger in her that a relative who had disappeared and ignored her for over ten years had suddenly thrown her an invitation to a party. Far less for a sibling. That normal person might scoff, throw the invitation away and carry on with life.

Instead, Anna felt a deep joy within her stomach. Her sister was back in the city and Anna is now invited to a party! She was nearly bouncing on her seat. It was if her headache has dissipated into glee in the empty gallery. Anna had been to parties when she was younger and she even held modest one at her apartment for her sweet sixteen, but this was the first _adult_ party – less 'pin the tail on the donkey' and more chatting about the latest book in Romanesque Architecture (she thinks that's what party attendants talk about...) and cheese trays. Already she imagined the white wine she'd be sipping and hopefully with not be drinking as if it were the fountain of youth and the classy but simple earrings she'd be wearing.

If her mother were still alive, she would call. She wanted to tell somebody. The director? No, he wouldn't care. Her palms were already sweating. She could call her old friends from college... except some of them moved to the suburbs to start new families, so would they share the excitement to the same degree? Oh, maybe she can call Kai, the driver. Yes, Kai would be pleased, especially since he had been around since Elsa was born. Brilliant, she'll call Kai and then treat him to dinner then -

The front door opened silently.

In walked, the beautiful redheaded man from opening night. Anna sat up straight. She quickly tossed her apple into the bin and shoved the invitation back into her bag. He gave a small wave and wandered from piece to piece. She could almost smell his cologne from where she sat. She wondered how awful she looked, considering she just thrashed about her chair in suppressed happiness in a pencil skirt.

He pointed to one of the giant mass of colours on the wall. "This is a fantastic piece." Anna giggled a response. Secretly she thought that all the pieces did not differentiate from one another and instead all acted as a whole, making the entire space one work of art… but she would not tell him that. The piece in front of him was a swirl of black, red and yellow, emerging from the wall, like a strange disease as if it was desperate to break free.

"It is definitely my favourite in this place," he continued, still pointing at the work. "How do purchases work?"

"You're considering buying one of them?"

"Well, it would be the first work of art I ever bought. But if this guy gets famous enough, wouldn't the value of the piece soar?"

"I guess so... although I never imagined anyone would want to hang this stuff in his living room." If she was choking in it just coming into work, she couldn't picture herself entering her home and having the silently screaming artwork there in the foyer.

He laughed good-naturedly. "You're right. All my siblings have started collections and I feel a little behind. I shouldn't rush into buying anything."

"How many siblings do you have?"

"Twelve brothers. All older than me."

"Wow – really? People still give birth to that many kids?" She flinched at her own comment. "I mean, not that it's weird or anything. I'm sure your parents were great parents... Ignore me." She turned away and began typing into her computer.

He laughed again and approached her. Her eyes flittered up to him nervously then back to the screen in front of her. His cologne filled her nostrils so intensely that she was swimming in it. She noticed how impressive his sideburns were but they were neat and oddly fashionable in this city, and it complemented his business suit and tie. His nose was long and for some reason, she kept envisioning him powdering it to prevent a shine.

"Hans, by the way." He held out his hand.

"Oh umm... Anna." She took it.

"Is this place yours?"

She laughed nervously. "No. I'm just an assistant."

"I see. I remember you at the opening ceremony."

"Yep, that was me! Did you know the artist personally?" Usually guests who lingered at the opening were either friends, fans of the artist or supporters of the gallery.

He glimpsed at the artist's statements on her desk, usually set aside for visitors. "No, but I've been considering going into art collecting. I've been very interested in Romantic European paintings, though I know that's a huge cliché, but I've been told that I should keep my eye on contemporary works."

_An interest in Romanticism?_

"But," he continued. "I'm a little ignorant of a current stuff. I've been attending the auctions at Sotheby's but they're so hectic, it's hard to keep up."

"I can help you out," she blurted. "It's easy to explain."

He smiled wider. "That would be great."

Anna returned the smile. The silence that came between them felt a little awkward, but it was sweet as she drank in his beauty.

He coughed. "I've got to head back to work though. I'm here on my lunch break. How about we discuss this over coffee later today?"

_Wuh?_

"Coffee? You and me?"

"Sure, you seem like you're a good conversationalist."

"Well no, I..." She chewed her lip. "Yes! Coffee. I'd like coffee."

"Coffee it is. I'll come back, then. Six PM?" She nodded. The walking perfection waved goodbye and left as silently as he came in.

Anna sat wordlessly at her desk, her fingers spread out on her keyboard. She felt her whole face warming.

_What just happened?_

Elsa was back in the city. Anna had been invited to her sister's inauguration ceremony (a real party!). Anna had a date.

This was the best day of her life.

"Who was that?" The director's nose poked out of his office his neck moving back and forth like a bird's as he scanned the room. "A critic? What did he want?"

"Oh, he was just looking."


	2. Dance at Le Moulin de la Galette

subway map for reference (with spaces removed): mta . info / maps / images / subway _ 2400 x 2863 . jpg

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**2. ****_Dance at Le Moulin de la Galette -_**** Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1876**

Anna's apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan was small but had been big enough for her and her mother. It was high enough to let in the afternoon light, but still close to the streets to allow ambulance and fire truck noises to filter in. The cacophony used to bother her, especially during exam weeks, but ever since her mother died, Anna welcomed any sound. She always left the television on and developed an odd habit of chatting with some of her mother's pictures.

Her mother was the biggest art lover Anna knew and was actually friends with a few modern artists during the 1970s. Thus Anna's apartment was a miniature museum with nearly each inch of the white and pink walls covered in artworks. Many were abstract but the few that had any human figures became Anna's friends. On days when she cooked, she shifted the dining table to face one of the paintings – Joan of Arc with her sword raised – and had dinner dates with the saint.

It was her mother who suggested that if Anna had to choose any humanities major, that it should be art, _not_ dancing. _"You're not in Julliard,"_ she used to say. And of course, not studio art, but art history. Anna was never a good artist, anyway. Anna loved art but if she really had to choose, she would have at least tried a dancing class to see how capable she was or maybe even a music class. Her only practice space was her bedroom, where she twirled while dressing or sang while checking her personal email. She especially sang more often now that she was alone, at least to remove the creepy dead silence in the lonely apartment.

The housemaid was always welcome to clean the apartment, and like always, she neatened the living area, the kitchen and the bathroom, leaving Anna's mother's bedroom (which was now always closed) and her room alone. Anna appreciated the noise of the vacuum cleaner and the small conversations they shared – anything to fill the loneliness in the apartment. Anna's room was a complete mess – clothes strewn about, several cheap art reproductions piled in the corner, not yet hung, and a many items she hoarded as a child, especially those that reminded her of Elsa.

With Hans suddenly in her life, Anna had even more noise. She asked to video chat with him every night and he always happily obliged. Granted, their coffee date had been less than a week ago, but Anna felt as if she had known him her whole life. The date had gone swimmingly, ending with a chaste kiss on the hand. It had been so long since Anna felt such an intense bond with another human being who was interested in what she was saying and who shared so many common interests. All her romance novels and rom-com DVDs felt cheap compared to her connection with Hans.

She sat by her desk and pulled up the video chat program. On the list were just two names: her father and now Hans. She did not even know if Elsa used the same program. She would have removed her father's name after his death, but she couldn't bear seeing the list deplete to emptiness.

She quickly clicked on Hans' username on her computer and waited, pinning her hair in place.

"Hello? Anna?" His face popped onto her screen, bright and alive. Anna saw a neat and extremely modern apartment behind him in shades of grey, pale yellow and white.

"Hans!" She pushed a pink modest dress into view. "Ok, be totally honest. What do you think of this one?"

"I love it!" His voice was slightly morphed into an echo by the computer speaker.

"What about this?" She pushed another dress in front of the computer camera, this time, green and lightly decorated.

"I love that too. Anna, you would look beautiful in both."

She nearly melted at that comment. "Oh, Hans. You're so sweet. I think I might go with the green."

"Excellent decision."

Hans was probably the sweetest boyfriend a girl could ever ask for. _Was_ he her boyfriend? They had not even seen each other since the coffee date, but their fast connection and easy conversations must have been a sign. She also never entirely confirmed it with him, but he seemed to be agreeing with nearly everything she said, so perhaps he thought the same things too. There was not a single flaw of his that she could find. That day spent in the café within the smells of coffee and the sounds of grinding beans and the rattle of ice and his gingery cologne scent that had enveloped her… He had romanced her without even trying.

"Not going to lie, I'm a little nervous," she said through some of the hairpins still stuck between her teeth. "Can you imagine? It's been more than ten years since I've seen her."

His voice garbled in static. "I'm sure she'll be very happy to see you."

Hans coincidentally worked at Arendelle Co. He personally knew her father when he was alive, but only met Elsa a few times. Hans used to be Mr. Rike's personal assistant and it warmed her heart to know that he was once close to her father. It was as if she was still connected to her father in some strange unseen thread and it comforted her immensely. She had asked Hans what Elsa was like these days. His response had been: "She looks exhausted, like she's been buried under work. I think seeing you again would do her good." This was another thing Anna had liked about Hans: after spending her entire teen life silent about Elsa, it was fantastic to talk to someone about her sister again.

Anna had wondered if dating Hans, an employee at Arendelle Co. might cause some friction with Elsa. It could be interpreted from ambitious and envious eyes that Hans might be fishing for nepotism in the company, but Anna simply _knew _that that wasn't the case. Hans rarely mentioned anything related to work; conversations were about their favourite films, favourite music genres and their sibling issues. The earnest way in which he tried to get to know _Anna_ made her feel special. This wasn't a man trying to go further in a company. This was a sweet fellow who, Anna hoped at least, was taken with her the same way she was taken with him. He was such a fitted match for her that there was no way Elsa would disapprove.

"Do you think she'll approve of us?" Anna questioned, more to herself than to Hans.

"I don't see why not."

Anna did not want to spring any sudden news on Elsa or be overly pushy about certain matters, but hiding Hans would probably just make things awkward in the long run.

"Yeah, you're right," Anna responded after quickly considering this.

"Anna," he said. "Don't worry about tonight. Everything will be all right. And if Elsa were to shut you out again, I will still be there."

She wanted to say _thank you_ but instead, she smiled, completely enamoured at the man on the other side of the screen. "Can I... can I say something kind of crazy?"

"Of course."

"I just feel like this whole week has been kind of amazing. It's just so easy to talk to you." She chewed her lip trying to find the right words to say next. "I think about you all the time."

"I feel the same way."

"I'll see you soon." She blew him an airy-kiss. Hans mimed grabbing the kiss and rubbed it onto his cheek.

When she ended the chat, the room suddenly stilled in an eerie quiet. Not even the streets were bustling. Anna was feeling impatient. Hans was only her first boyfriend and she was already in her mid-twenties. Already she had begun dreaming of white dresses and platinum gold rings. She knew it was too soon to start imagining but there was no way things could go wrong.

She zipped up the green dress and checked herself in the mirror. The dress moulded beautifully against her torso – not too long that it seemed as if she were wearing a gown, and not too short to seem impractical and might send the wrong message. Already petite in size, Anna's dress further emphasised her youth and spunk.

What would she say when she meets Elsa? Would Elsa even want to talk to her? _Don't be silly, she sent you an invitation._ Even her name and address had been handwritten on the invitation's envelope and she wondered if Elsa had written it personally. Anna felt ashamed when she realised that she didn't remember what Elsa's handwriting even looked like when they were younger.

She kicked a few clothes out of the way as she searched in her closet for the new pair of high-heels she had thrown in there a few months before. Her mother's ghost was always haunting her, as she remembered buying them with her mother. Despite her mother's insistence of school-before-everything, they had a shared fashion sense, wearing simply decorated dresses. Her mother usually wore purples, giving her a mature sensibility, while she usually opted for green. The heels were low (there was no way she was doing to destroy her feet with anything higher), but they gave the short girl the extra few inches she would've liked.

The intercom buzzed, alerting Anna that the front desk was trying to reach her.

"Miss? Kai is here." _Kai is early._

"I'll be there in a second!" She pressed the 'telephone' button to speak and panicked over the mic, grabbing her wallet, her cell phone and her keys, stuffing everything into her small purse. She snatched the high-heeled shoes, hoping to wear them in the car, shut the door of her apartment behind her and ran down the marble staircase barefooted.

Kai waited outside the front door, standing straight and proper. As he saw her, he opened the door to the backseat, treating Anna as if she was respected royalty, which of course she was not, and tipped his hat.

"Hi Kai."

"Miss Rike. Ready for tonight?"

"Of course!" Summer meant that it would be until about eight or nine before the sun would set, but the romance of the occasion was still in the air. Anna jumped into the backseat, fitting on her heels. "I just hope she remembers what I even look like!"

"You're almost a clone of her, Miss Rike. You'll be hard to miss. And you must tell your sister hi for me. It's been so long." Kai had stayed with her mother while her old housemaid Gerda, had stayed with her father and Elsa.

"Maybe I can get Elsa to come out with me to say hi to you personally at the end of the party."

Kai laughed at the front seat. "Oh, that would not be necessary. If everything goes well, I'm sure there will be many chances to see her."

"Hey Kai."

"Yes, Miss Rike?"

"Since we're a little early, do you think we could stop at the gallery first before we head to the party?"

He turned the steering wheel. "Did you forget something?"

"Yeah. Sort of. It won't take long, I promise."

At the front desk of Weselton Gallery, where Anna usually sat, she kept two small handmade dolls – one of Anna and one of Elsa. Anna usually never paid any attention to them, as they were small mementos a distant aunt had once sent to them and she usually kept them at the desk more to fill space than for any reminder. When she left her old home, she took them both, without realising it and never had the chance to return one of them to Elsa. It was only at the sudden excitement of seeing her sister again, did the dolls came back to her memory.

The ride from Upper East Side to Lower Manhattan was never too long by car (unless they went straight through Times Square like masochists, where there was always a mass of walking tourists and honking taxi cabs) but there were times when Anna leaned against the window and wished that the ride would linger a little longer. The scenery would always evolve when moving from uptown to downtown – wealthy houses and apartments on her street, to taller buildings and wider streets on Park Avenue, to the more commercial buildings around Midtown. Manhattan was alive with tourists, commuters and idlers. As they went deeper into Chelsea, past the famous Chelsea Hotel and towards the Highline, a train track converted to public park, the buildings became more residential until they hit the gallery streets, where all the buildings seemed to be constructed on concrete and iron bars.

She plucked her keys from her purse and opened the glass door. Her heels echoed in the dark empty gallery and the screaming artwork welcomed her silently. With all the lights off, they seemed less daunting. The dolls sat at her computer, as they usually did and she pulled plush-Anna from desk. The plan always was that she kept Elsa and Elsa kept Anna, but the real-life Anna, standing and breathing above her desk, was determined to see that through. There was slight dust on the dolls, since Anna never touched them since she placed them there on her first day employed. She locked the gallery again, unaware that it would be some time before she returned, and re-entered the car, plush-Anna poking out of her purse with her red stringy hair caught on the zipper.

The Financial District on the other hand was an area of pretty architecture and coldness, with Wall Street brokers and Finance Majors, interning at this bank or that bank, walking back and forth with a cup of coffee in their hands. Everyone wore a suit and was on their phone. Some of the roads were still unpaved and the car bumped about on nostalgic cobblestone.

The hotel where the party was at was all glass and elegance, with baroque-style interior decorating, contrasting with the glass windows that allowed the rooms to extend into nothingness but the outside world. Gold and white dominated. With a happy 'see you later' to Kai, Anna stepped into another dream. There was no way she could have imagined this and so it was as if she were entering someone else's domain. She felt as if she were truly a princess as her neck craned to gawk at the false frescos on the ceiling.

"Arendelle Co. party? To your right then down the hall."

The ceilings were high and the halls were wide. She could not even hear her own footsteps on the soft carpeting of the plush floor runners. Despite the outside summer heat, the inside was cool with odd snowflake motifs which reminded her of her and Elsa's bedrooms when they were younger. She wondered very briefly if the Rike family owned this hotel. After the separation, everything Arendelle Co. related went out of her head, as she ventured into another new life. The Rike family was not one to post their name all over the city, like certain magnates, but they were well known enough to have their names in the newspapers without any introductions. If Anna had even bothered to search on the Internet, she might have even found her father's name on Wikipedia.

The ballroom daunted her. Men in tuxedos everywhere with their wives clinging onto their arms with tennis bracelets on their wrists and long pearl earrings. Anna suddenly felt like a prom girl entering the wrong party, with her green dress that-twirled-when-she-spun. She was never a shy girl, so pushed any insecurity out of the window and immediately began searching for familiar auburn side burns or white hair. Her dress was fine and she looked nice.

She squeezed between groups of gossipers and spotted Hans at the side of the room with a champagne glass in his hand.

"Hans! Oh, sorry to interrupt!"

"Anna, glad you came. This is one of the members of the board of directors. Señor, this is Miss Rike." A large ballooning man, whose stomach strained against his belt and waistcoat, eyed her. He had uncharacteristically long black hair that fell in locks around his shoulders.

"Miss Rike?" He asked in a rich Spanish accent, as he scratched his goatee.

"She's the Chairman and new CEO's sister." Chairman? Anna had not known that Elsa was also the Chairman of the company. If she was indeed taking two titles, then it was no wonder Hans had said that she looked tired.

"Señorita, it's a pleasure." He kissed her hand, similar to how Hans had said goodbye at their date, but so much more European and less sweet. She was certainly not used to such treatment outside of Kai's poised manners.

"Oh, thank you. It's not a big deal. It's not like I'm my sister. I work in the gallery downtown. Although, since we're at the bottom of Manhattan, then I guess uptown... It's in Chelsea."

"It is always an honour to meet another member of the Rike family." Anna liked the way he rolled his R's. It made her name sound more romantic.

"Speaking of..." Anna's eyes darted about, hoping to remove herself from the conversation after intruding into it. "Did anyone see Elsa?"

The Spanish Board Member looked about. He was barely taller than Anna. "She might be making her speech soon."

Hans placed his champagne glass onto a passing tray. "In the meantime, señor. I think I owe this lady a dance."

Anna's eyes lit up and she massively resisted the urge to grab Hans' arm and run to the centre of the dance floor. Instead, she took his outstretched hand, and walked maturely into the centre of the room. As they spun around to live music, Anna could already feel her feet suddenly lifted into the clouds. She would not have even noticed if they danced out the window into the setting sun. Hans was an excellent dancer and she moved with him gracefully. Her heart was caught in her throat and she allowed her skirt to flow back and forth, cementing the belief that she really did pick the right dress.

There were so many things she wanted to say then: Hans, this day can't get any better. Hans, you're so handsome I can't believe it. Hans, I can't wait to see my sister and fully introduce you two to each other. Hans, this is a dream. _Hans, I love you_.

"I told you that you would look beautiful," he said, interrupting her thoughts.

"Oh, this old thing?" She was red in bliss.

"Excuse me," a voice echoed in the ballroom. "May I have your attention?" Silence. "Thank you. Thank you all for coming here today to celebrate a great day for Arendelle. I know we are still grieving the loss of the previous CEO." Another moment of respected silence. "However, we must put aside the tragedy and welcome a new era. Please welcome, Miss Elsa Rike."

Anna spun her head to look around. On the stage, framed by thick theatre-style maroon curtains, a tiny white-haired figure emerged. Hands were raised in cheer. Glasses clinked. Anna could barely see a thing. She took Hans' arm and approached the stage. The closer they approached, the more she came into view: exceedingly beautiful in a black and purple cloak and her hands covered in dark green gloves.

She seemed almost unreal, as if she was peeled off from the black and white newspaper picture she had seen earlier that week. No matter how much she came into view, she still appeared to be a mile away. Elsa's eyes scanned the room briefly before they landed onto Anna.

The eye contact was enough. Everyone in the room vanished. Elsa's eyes widened in – horror? Shock? What was it? For a second it might have been happiness, but that disappeared quickly into one of... grief?

Elsa blinked and looked elsewhere and Anna felt a sudden sink in her chest.

The new CEO unfolded a white sheet and looked to her audience, breathing in deeply – her mannerisms changing dramatically to one of regal quality, once again. Despite her speaking from the paper, she did not once glance at it.

"Thank you all for attending. It has been a long journey for us all and I will do my utmost to see the best possible future for Arendelle Co." Her voice rang so beautifully, she could have been singing, but Anna definitely noticed the bags under her eyes. Anna could not tell if it was the lighting or if they were truly straining to stay open. Elsa spoke of future endeavours, plans, and thank you's, of their father, a relationship so strong, severed so suddenly by callous drivers, everything one could think of, except for love for her co-workers, though Anna felt within her soul, that Elsa did not need to say anything to mean it.

How would things turn out after? Would Elsa disappear again into the backstage? Would she mingle with the crowd and if so, who was Anna to butt into another conversation? Would Elsa stand in the back of the crowd, like a wallflower?

Anna was so lost in her own thoughts, in trying to think of ways to approach her sister that the end of the speech came suddenly and she gave a lacklustre clap, without intending to seem like she didn't care.

Thankfully, instead of retreating to the back, Elsa carefully walked down the stairs to mix with her guests. She was not very tall, only a few inches taller than Anna, yet she stood out like a beacon, calling to Anna without even looking at her. Anna looked back at Hans who nodded approvingly before shoulders, tuxedoes and dresses covered his face and he slunk back into the mix of dancing, champagne and the parties, leaving her in the real world.

She turned back to watch Elsa, gripping her purse tightly. Her doll's head gave her some reassurance, and only then did she see that she really did seem like a child: prom dress and a doll. She was surprised she didn't seem like Lolita next to Hans.

Only a few metres separated them and Elsa smiled, welcoming Anna into her little circle of admirers.

"Hi," Elsa said.

"Oh, uh... hi." Anna looked everywhere instead of directly at her sister. "This is a great party."

"I'm glad you like it. You look beautiful." The circle broke apart – guests spreading out to converse with each other and dance, leaving just the sisters in their own little conversation.

"Thanks. You look amazing too – even more than me. I needed help picking out the dress. Hans helped me out."

Elsa's smile dropped slightly. "Hans?"

"Oh, yeah. We're sort of…," _In love? Dating? In a relationship? Change topic. Change topic. _"He's this guy. Over there, actually." She pointed to no one. "But let's not talk about him. Not right now. I'm just so happy to see you."

"I'm happy to see you too." Elsa looked amongst her, as if searching to see where this Hans-fellow was, before turning her attention again to Anna. "I've never been to a party before."

"Really? This is my first adult one." She felt even sillier. "I mean, I had some small ones as a kid, but..."

"Well I guess we're both new at this."

Anna felt a surge of encouragement hearing this. "I guess so."

"So..."

"So... It's warmer than I thought it would be. I don't know how you can dress so heavily."

"It's habitual." Elsa touched her own gloves as if reminding herself that they were there covering her hands.

"Well, New York City is a dirty city."

Elsa laughed politely into her hand.

"Oh, I nearly forgot. I wanted to give this to you." She pulled the doll out of her purse, only to have the red hair catch onto the zipper. "Give me a second." Anna tugged harder, pulling some of the strands out. "Oops. Well, she still looks all right."

Elsa held it delicately, like a jewel. "This doll..."

"Yeah, I never got the chance to give it back to you. I had taken it by accident when... you know."

"Thank you. It's great to see a familiar face again." Elsa could have meant Anna or her doll – it didn't matter.

"We should hang out again," Anna blurted. She wanted to stop herself from continuing but the words fell out of her mouth uncontrollably. "Do you want to visit the Met Museum? I work in a gallery in Chelsea, so I know art! I mean technically I'm educated more in contemporary and 19th Century, but still! Or we can have tea again at that café – I'm trying to remember the name, it keeps escaping me. But now that you're here we have can –"

"Anna." Her eyes suddenly dropped into that strange sadness Anna had seen earlier. "I'd love to, but –"

Anna didn't want to hear any further. Anything but a rejection. "But there's so much we need to catch up on."

"I know, but... I'm afraid taking this new position is going to take up a lot of time." She was already beginning to look down and away.

"What? So much time that you can't hang out with your sister that you haven't seen since you were eight?!" Anna felt surrounding eyes suddenly land on her. She wasn't shouting but she was certainly speaking loud enough to grab others' attention.

Since the invitation, Elsa had invaded Anna's thoughts. Memories she ignored resurfaced gently, though many details were still fuzzy. She even dreamt at night of the party – how she would introduce Hans to Elsa, how she and Elsa would reconnect and relive their childhood. While the nervousness was building, her excitement had also been increasing at a faster rate – but now none of that nervousness could compare to the actual fear she was starting to feel in her stomach.

"I just can't." Elsa's voice dropped into a fearful tone.

"No, Elsa, please."

"Look, Anna. I'm very happy you came." Elsa said, looking unsure, despite the genuine tone in her voice.

"I'm happy to see you too, but this doesn't have to be the end. I have so much to tell you!" She spotted Hans watching the arguing pair, just like the rest of the guests. He stood behind a pair of tall gentlemen, as if ensuring that he would not be involved. Instead he looked at the sisters, with a poker face. He seemed so far away that he might fade if Anna was to reach out.

"Now isn't the best time." Elsa warned.

"But I don't know when we'll get another time to speak."

Anything but a rejection.

"We can speak later," Elsa said turning to dive back into the crowds.

Anna felt the strange familiar ache from when she was five and saying goodbye. Memories of looking back through the window in the black car to the Upper West Side apartment was flooding in. A little Anna had waved. The little Elsa waved back. The apartment building was getting smaller and smaller and the trees had swayed with the afternoon breeze. Even if she knew Elsa was just turning to walk just to the other side of the room, Anna could not stand to see Elsa walk away again. They might never have another chance to speak.

Anna reached out to take the gloved hand, only to pull off the green silk skin.

"My glove!" Elsa looked back, suddenly holding her stomach and shrinking with a curved back. This was not something Anna never thought she would see: the queen-like CEO and Chairman of Arendelle Co. suddenly losing all her strength, as if the glove was the cap of an unstable container.

For some reason, Anna could not let go. Some feeling of desperation pushed her more and more. "Elsa, please."

"Not now, Anna."

Elsa's gloved hand gripped the doll so tightly that the little button eyes might pop out. It was a strange sight to see the older sister holding a miniature version of the younger, and immediately Anna questioned if retrieving the doll from the gallery was even a good idea.

"But -"

"Anna – I said not now!"

Elsa reached out for the glove only to have a blast of white shoot out of the palm of her exposed hand and land on the glove. It froze so instantly that Anna immediately dropped it and the encasing ice shattered on the ground. The glove lay on the floor, limp and lifeless.

_What was that?_

Everyone was silent. The room's eyes were fixed on Elsa. She backed into the wall, her face full of fright.

"Elsa?" Anna spoke up, softly in the hall but it vibrated in the silence.

Elsa opened her mouth, as if to explain, but quickly shut it again. She touched the wall behind her. The baroque stucco patterns on the wall suddenly crystallised, turning the white and gold into a frosty blue. _Ice?_ It arched around her, beautifully but so hauntingly and shockingly that everyone backed away.

A champagne glass fell with a crash. The horrified gasp from a guest. The temperature dropped so quickly that Anna suddenly felt a harsh pain within her chest as a blast of cold shook her entire body.

"Holy –"

"What? What's going on?"

"Miss Rike?"

The stillness attracted attention from outside the ballroom. Nosy employees stretched their necks to peak at the circus show while those at the front were slowly backing away in fear. Anna, unsure of what to do, approached Elsa, but Elsa stood against the wall, like an abandoned creature too afraid of human contact.

"Please, don't come any closer." Elsa warned, her breath unsteady and foggy. The floor was icing over. Goosebumps covered Anna's skin.

As a callous young waiter scrambled to pull his phone to snap a picture, Elsa instantly held out her arms in reflex, again shooting white towards the phone and locking it in ice. It landed on the ground with an ugly thud.

The waiter let out a grieving shriek.

"Is she going to freeze us?!" Anna heard someone shout. As she turned towards the voice, attempting to defend her sister from such a horrid accusation or Elsa bolted out the doors into the lobby.

"Wait – wait! Elsa!" Anna cried out, suddenly skating and slipping madly on the ice. She fell back, only to have a pair of arms catch her.

"Anna, you should stay here." She looked up: Hans.

The entire ballroom broke out in pandemonium. Confusion surrounded Anna.

"No, this was my fault. I need to get her," Anna's said loudly, hoping others would hear and calm down.

"You don't know how dangerous she could be!"

"She's not! This was a huge misunderstanding. I can fix this."

"What if she hurts someone? What if she hurts you?"

"She's my sister – she will never hurt me."

With that, she ran out the door following a trail of ice on the marble floors and the floor runners. She did not look back once – not at the frightened guests, not at Hans, not at the hotel staff who were so confused, they seemed frozen in time in surprise. Anna pushed her way through the checked-in crowds, slamming into the front door and back in New York City. Night had fallen by this time and she could hear the voices around her.

"What the - ?"

"Is it snowing?"

She automatically embraced herself as the temperature dropped even faster. It was winter in July.

The sky was covered in a blanket of grey as snow was indeed falling from the sky. The ice trail had disappeared. Already her feet were stepping on a very thin layer of snow, which would only grow thicker with time. Anna looked about madly. A flash of white hair appeared at the corner of her eye, and Anna skidded awkwardly after it. She pushed through angry crowds ("Hey!" "Watch it!") that were growing more and more agitated with the strange new weather.

The Financial District was not as easy to navigate as most of Manhattan was. With streets that criss-crossed into each other like a strange web, it was easy to get lost without a smartphone or street sense. She dashed after the black cloak that seemed minute between tall skyscrapers.

"Elsa – wait!" Her voice was already growing hoarse in the biting and relentless cold. Her breath fogged in the air.

In a whirl, the white haloed head disappeared into the green subway entrance at Fulton Street Station, the cloak billowing behind the woman like a cape.

* * *

I'm excited for the next chapter because (spoilers!) our favourite blond boy appears.


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